One of the great things about spending holidays with my sister-in-law is hearing The Russian's childhood stories from another vantage point. His sister has a steely memory and is not tentative about interrupting my husband mid-tale to set the record straight...

The Russian and I are comparing notes on how we spent our after-school time as kids. In my case, it was ballet classes and field hockey practice. You will not be surprised to learn it was a different routine for the Russian, perhaps involving bullets and bombs...

If you have a member of the Russian Orthodox church in your life, you are aware it is the first week of Great Lent. And the Great Lent being Russian, it is — predictably — hardcore. The Russian sails through the door this evening laden with Whole Food bags and an intricate map of what

The Russian has no patience for school snow days. He feels they are proof of American softness and, like speed limits and hurricane warnings, best treated as optional. I ask him if he thinks Americans are sissies...

It's been a while, hasn't it? A year and a half, actually, but who's counting. How funny that I closed my last post with the words, "Next stop, Sochi." And now here it is, February 2014, and we're in the midst of the Sochi Winter Olympics...